Reason 90: The Bureau of Lost Socks
100 Reasons I'm Retiring
This is my sock drawer. Yes, it’s a fright, but who has the time to match and fold socks in the way their creators intended? Among the pile of socks are many who have no mate, due to what is known as the Great Sock Mystery. I intend to get to the bottom of it, or at least my own personal issues with socks, very soon.
I have trouser socks and knee socks and loafer socks and crew socks and sport socks that used to have little pom poms of yarn on the heels. Who thought pom poms on socks were a good idea? I have gray and blue and brown and striped and hot pink with purple dots, thick socks to be worn with boots and thin socks to wear with loafers. I have enough socks to shod the entire sandaled cast of The Ten Commandments. What I don't have is two that match.
Now, I am aware of the fact that every housewife in the world has lamented the missing sock syndrome. I have constructed many theories on the subject of the missing sock, ranging from the suction of the dryer pulling them into the vent to them running away to join a traveling puppet show. I've tried to make the best of it. I've made orphan socks into toy bunnies and cat toys. When I taught middle school, I once used a whole bunch of rolled-up single socks in a game called "Panic." And, of course, soft socks make really nice dust mitts. (In the recent spate of cold weather, my son was seen sporting a pair of mismatched socks as gloves. Clever. But I digress.)
So great has been the mystery of the missing sock that the United States government reportedly formed an official office to look into the matter. The Bureau of Missing Socks was supposedly formed during the Civil War in 1861 when it was discovered that Union Soldiers, turning in a pair of worn-out socks for a new pair, often turned in only one sock. In typical government style, the United States rallied itself and decided to get to the bottom of the matter. Joseph Smithson, a haberdasher by trade who had proven to be rather a disaster as a quartermaster, was put in charge of the whole sock division of the Union Army. I am sure his parents were proud.
Anyway, according to the story, Smithson ran a tightly knit--excuse the pun--organization known as The Darners and insisted upon field repair kits so soldiers could darn their own socks. New England millers, who were making a profit from the feet of the soldiers, tried to put an end to the Bureau of Missing Socks and Smithson's thrift. Even President Lincoln was in favor of disbanding the unit. But the Bureau of Missing Socks became a convenient place to sequester soldiers who were not quite cutting the mustard and high-ranking army officials insisted it remain.
I am sorry to tell you that the Bureau of Missing Socks is a complete piece of fiction, Sad, because many in America are threatened by this silent plague. Samsung even conducted a study in 2017 to determine what happens to all those lost socks. While the data confirmed that on average a person loses 1200, socks per lifetime, no answer was found to the dilemma.
Years ago, when more feet lived in my house and one of the household tasks my ill husband could do was fold the laundry, he invented the “close enough” style of matching socks. As long as the color and the size were correct, length and style didn’t matter. It was always a surprise to pull out a rolled-up pair of navy blue socks and find one knee sock and one ankle sock.
I expect cleaning out my sock drawer will find more unmatches than matches and while I might not be as thrifty as the U.S. Army in making use of odd socks, I have found a website that suggests Nine Stupendous Uses for One Single Solitary Sock. As a community service to those inflicted with this epidemic, I list them here:
Dust cloth
Wipe a dog’s paws and toys
Rejuvenate dry skin
Roll out knotted muscles
Bust bad smells
Create kids’ toys
Prevent drafts
Make dryer balls
Organise wrapping paper
Want to know how many socks you’re likely to lose this month? Try the Lost Socks Calculator.
As for me, I will keep a few of my husband’s “close enough” sock matches just because. It always makes me smile, even if I don’t wear them. Pro tip: Widow socks are also good for wiping away a few tears.
Do you have a theory about missing socks? Or a way to solve the problem? Let me know in the comments!
I don’t believe the missing sock dilemma can be solved anymore than the matching bowl lid problem. One thing I’ve done to “organize” my pairs is shoe boxes. You can use cardboard ones or buy the plastic ones at your nearest Dollar Store.
By the way, I love your suggestions for the solitary sock. I have a real distain for light emanating from all sorts of devices. If said devices are in the bedroom, they get tucked in with an orphan sock.